


Security

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Mystery, Novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-02
Updated: 2005-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Being a spy isn't easy, neither is working with your biggest enemy, doing both at the same time is nearly impossible.





	1. Prologue: Hiding in Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Prologue

The room stank of blood. Her hands were coated with it. Hermione could see corpses littered liberally around the room. Most of them were Death Eaters, their Dark Marks still glowing on pale skin. It gave her hope. But Harry, the-boy-who-lived, was nowhere to be seen. Sometime during his fight with Voldermort, he must have left the room. “Avada Ked--” she heard the voice of evil scream at the top of his lungs. 

Hermione ran as fast as she could, hoping she wouldn’t be too late, knowing that she would. Voldermort lay on the floor, dead, Harry’s wand sticking out of his chest. After so many years of magically torturing and killing people, the man was killed in one of the oldest ways, impalement. Harry lay next to him, his face covered in blood. Hermione knelt at his side. 

“Don’t be dead,” she said, “I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re dead.” He coughed a little and opened his eyes. Hermione hugged him close. “Oh, thank you, thank you.”

“Be careful,” Harry said in a tired voice, smiling a little. “I don’t know if everything is still attached.” He closed his eyes, and Hermione shook him. “Hermione, I’m tired. Hermione…”

“Hermione. Hermione! Wake up!” She opened her eyes. “Have you been here all night?” Will, the janitor, asked.

She looked at her watch, it was a little after 11:00 PM. “This is hardly all night, Will. I just had some extra work to catch up on.”

“And your monitor just happened to be behind your eyelids?” He smiled. “Get out of here. Go break some innocent blokes heart.”

She stood up and stretched. Her back hurt from sitting in an uncomfortable position for too long. Ejecting the disk from her computer she picked up her bag. “No broken hearts tonight, Will. Just sleep.” She walked out of the office, not seeing Will’s wistful glance after her. 

James King, the night security guard bid her goodnight as she got off the lift. “’Nother long night?” He asked.

“It’s how I do things.” She pushed opened the door and walked into the cold London night. As she walked to the nearest tube station she threw her disk into a trash can a block away from the office. After a ten minute tube ride she was at her flat.

As she walked in, her flat mate, Alissa said, “Where have you been?” She took stock of Hermione’s suit. “The office?” Hermione nodded. “All this time?”

“I fell asleep. Will woke me up.” She put her bag down and took her suit jacket off.

Alissa smiled. “Will? He fancies you.”

“No, he doesn’t. He looks out for me.” Walking into the kitchen she grabbed a banana. Peeling it, she asked. “So, where are you going tonight?”

“New club, new bloke. He’s young, rich, attractive, and upwardly mobile. What more could a girl ask for?” She twirled around in her new little black dress. “Do you like it?”

“You look delectable. How much did it cost you?”

“Oh, ‘Mione, you’re too practical. If I’m lucky, my date will fall madly in love, or at least passionate lust with me, and I won’t have to worry about paying for a long time.” She smiled, somehow it came off as wistful and scheming at the same time. Alissa was that sort of girl.

“Or fall in passionate lust with you, you’ll have one wondrous night of monkey love, and he’ll be gone before you wake up.” She sat down on a stool.

“That sounds almost as good.” There was a knock at the door. “That’s him. I look good?”

“Great.”

She started for the door. “Wait, you answer it. He won’t get the full effect of the dress if I answer the door.” He knocked again. “I’ll go into the other room and you can call me, alright? Good.”

Smiling, Hermione shook her head. Alissa was strange, even for a muggle. When she opened the door, her smile turned into a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

Malfoy smiled. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He said it like he hadn’t hated her for more than ten years.

Making her voice pleasant, she said, “Please come in, Alissa is just doing her secret female rituals.” She opened the door and stepped to the side. “Alissa!”

“Drake! You look great, ready?” She walked into the room and hooked her hand on his arm. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” After Hermione shut the door, she hit it. “Get a grip,” she said to herself. You have work to do.


	2. Chapter 1: Complications

Chapter 1

Alissa’s room doubled as a home office. Though the muggle liked to party a lot, she had a work ethic that even Hermione respected. The laptop was situated on a card table that, though neat, looked ready to fall over at any moment. There wasn’t a stray paper in sight. Everything was in file folders, or computer files. 

For the first time in her life, Hermione thanked Draco Malfoy. It was the first chance she’d had since moving in to go through Alissa’s business files. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything neatly labeled, “Top Secret Company Materials.” The only folder that even remotely stuck out was plain looking except for a tiny black sticker. Inside were reviews of employees up for promotion. Hermione had a review in it. But that wasn’t what she was looking for. She turned to the computer.

She hadn’t concerned herself with learning much more than typing during school. But she’d graduated from Hogwarts over five years before. In her line of work it was important to be able to get into muggle things the muggle way. She could pick locks, hack into computers, use muggle cameras, and use muggle torches as well as any muggle. The fact that she’d been a muggle for eleven years of her life helped a lot. 

SecureCo’s computers were bound to be harder to hack into than others. She couldn’t use any magical shortcuts, it was part of their system. Somehow, SecureCo had managed to make a security system that couldn’t be magically tampered with. Any magic intentionally used on it sent up dozens of red flags. It was her job to find out how they’d done it, and, if possible, destroy the technology. Since it was still only used on company property, she had a chance to sabotage it. If she missed her chance, all she had to do was give the information to her employers, they would take care of the problem.

Once she got into Alissa’s computer files, she looked for something like: Anti-Magic System. There wasn’t even anything named system specs. The computer was wirelessly hooked up to one of the company’s servers. There was nothing there, either. Which meant, as Hermione suspected but hoped against, that the company kept all of it’s important files in house. 

Her work was done for the night. Or morning as the case was. If she went straight to sleep, she’d get 6 hours. It sounded wonderful.

“Don’t go to sleep yet,” she told Harry, shaking him. “Stay awake until a medi-witch can get here.”

He smiled, just a little, enough to give her hope, “You’re always so bossy. Keep me awake. Have you seen Ron?”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, “I - I don’t know. I saw you first. I hope he’s okay.” She kept talking, saying nothing until the medi-witch came. When Harry was unconscious she went looking for Ron. She found him easily, blood gushing from a wound in his stomach. “Oh, no, Ron.”

She brushed his carrot colored hair from his forehead. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and though he was still alive, he wouldn’t be for long. “Her- Hermione?”

She continued stroking his hair, “I’m here.”

“It hurts.” A tear slipped down his cheek, “It hurts so much.” He touched her hand that wasn’t brushing his hair. “I’m not going to make it, am I?”

“I don’t know.” A tear slid down her cheek, “I just don’t know.” But she was crying. She started kissing his cheeks, his forehead, and ending on his lips. They’d always loved each other, but because she’d been so dedicated to her schoolwork nothing had come of it. She’d always thought that they’d be together someday. And now she knew that someday would never come. “I love you, Ron. I love you so much.”

“Mione, I love you more than anything. Don’t hate me for leaving you.” He was fading fast. They only had a few minutes left together.

“I could never hate you, ever.” She kissed him again and again. Her arms were around him.

“I love you,” he said and he died. The light faded from his eyes and he stopped breathing. She kept her arms around him and sobbed into his bloody robes. It was a long time before a medi-witch came and pried her off of Ron’s cooling corpse. “I’m so sorry, Miss Granger.”

Hermione opened her eyes. The room was still dark. It was 4 AM. Though she’d only been asleep for three hours, she wasn’t tired anymore. Dreams of Ron’s death only lead to worse nightmares. She stood up, put on her robe, and walked to the kitchen.

Alissa was sitting at the breakfast table drinking a cup of tea. “The waters still hot,” she said, pointing to the stove. Hermione nodded. Alissa never asked questions about Hermione’s strange sleeping tendencies. It was her best characteristic.

“So, how did the date go?”

“Alright, I suppose,” she put her cup down. “He was nice, but a little to strange for me. He wasn’t on his mobile at all. The entire night. Can you imagine that? And he always looked at me when I talked to him. Like he was listening.”

Hermione was lost. “And these are bad things?”

“If he wasn’t on his mobile, that means he isn’t important enough to get calls at all hours. And if he’s not getting calls at all hours, how do I know he’s really working so much. His attention was just creepy. He’s so intense. And if he’s that intense after one date, I shudder to think what could happen after more.” She picked her cup back up and took a sip.

“Then I suppose it’s good that you don’t develop anything with a stalker. It would be horrible for you to end up with a man who cares about you enough to not be interrupted on your dates, and who pays attention to you.” Hermione sipped her tea.

“I’m glad you agree. It’s time for bed, I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you at work.”

“Night.” Hermione knew it would be impossible for her to go to sleep again. ‘Life was so much easier at Hogwarts.’ She gave a little laugh at that. Life hadn’t really been easier in school. Good and evil were just more strictly defined. 

She walked back into her room and grabbed a tattered old notebook. Walking back to the kitchen, she sat at the table and started writing:

Due to the high-tech nature of muggle computer systems, I was not able to access the system from here. When given the first opportunity, I will access the information from my station inside the company.

She closed the notebook and opened to the page she’d been writing on. It was blank. The device, called an Informant, was like the wizard’s version of e-mail. When one wrote in one of the books, it appeared in a separate, matching book. It’s first use was for gathering information from spies in the medieval days of war. Now it was used by spies for other purposes. 

As the sun rose, Hermione set out from the flat for a run around her area of the city. Though she hadn’t been known for her athletic prowess in school, things had changed. Her line of work had her running from the bad guys on occasion, and a slow runner was a dead runner in her life. After running a little more than five miles, she returned to the flat.

It was 7:30, Alissa, of course, was still asleep. Hermione got ready for work and left again. As she was walking out the door, she heard Alissa get out of bed. Alissa didn’t bother to mutter about her hate of mornings, she said it out loud so Hermione received to full benefit of her wrath.

When she arrived at her office she was surprised to see the flames flicking out of the third story windows. The people who had been inside were evacuated and standing on the street. No one was hurt. Hermione asked one of her colleagues what happened.

“There was a fire,” the man said, stating the obvious. “Something to do with faulty wiring I think. It started in a file storage room, destroyed everything.”

One of the executives asked everyone to gather round. “Because of this accident, the building will be closed for the next week. All employees have been given that time off, with full pay.”

Hermione didn’t bother to rejoice. She knew what Malfoy was after. The question was, did he get it, and if so, who was he working from. And, did he destroy all of the information on it?

She didn’t have any idea.

Alissa was walking down the hall when Hermione arrived at the flat. “Don’t bother going to work today,” she said. “There was a fire and we all have the week off.”

“Wonderful,” Alissa replied. “I’m going back to sleep.” They both walked back into the flat. Alissa went into her room. When Hermione was sure that she was asleep, she grabbed the Informant and wrote:

There was a fire at the main offices today. All of the paper files were destroyed. I do not know if any files of the security system still exist. There is a high probability that there are files in the computers. Because of the fire all employees have one week off, I will be visiting a colleague in Switzerland to gain more information.

She closed the book and hid it. Grabbing a bag and tossing clothes into it she smiled. It had been to long since she’d seen her friend.


	3. Chapter 2: Love and Lies

Chapter 2

Harry Potter lived in Switzerland. It wasn’t a widely known fact, only his closest friends and a few colleagues knew his address. After the fall of Voldermort he’d become somewhat of a recluse. He had, however, made a fortune on a book detailing how the Order of the Phoenix had worked to bring down the dark lord. His book, unlike those of the infamous fraud Gilderoy Lockhart, did not focus solely on his actions against Voldermort. He made it clear that the dark lord never would have been defeated if it weren’t for a strong resistance. He’d dedicated the book to all of the people who’d died fighting Voldermort, past and present.

Harry’s house was in the foothills of the Alps, about forty miles outside of Zurich. When she apparated on his doorstep, Harry was surprised, to say the least. “Hermione!” he said, hugging her tightly, “What are you doing here?”

She returned his hug. “I came to see you, silly. I have the week off. I’m not intruding, am I?”

“No, come inside,” he pulled on her arm. “You’re staying the whole week?”

“If I don’t wear out my welcome before then.” As always, when walking into Harry’s house she was amazed by the beautiful view. There was a wall of windows parallel to the entrance. She sighed quietly, “It’s so magnificent here.”

“Yeah,” he smiled wistfully. “And it’s completely isolated.” 

Hermione let the comment drop. She’d told Harry many times that he needed to experience life, not stay in his house like a hermit. But every time she brought up the argument he said, someday. She didn’t tell him that sometimes someday didn’t come. He knew it well enough. “So is my usual room occupied, or can I sleep in there?”

“I would make the queen herself change rooms if you said the word.” They walked together to Hermione’s room to drop off her bags. 

“So,” Hermione asked while they were sitting on a sofa enjoying the view, “Have you written any other manuscripts?”

He was silent for a moment, “It’ll be five years to the day tomorrow. Five years since I murdered Voldermort.”

Hermione moved to sit closer to him, putting her arm around his shoulder, she said, “You didn’t murder him.”

“He’s dead, I killed him. That’s murder.”

“No, it’s not. You had no malicious intent. You were defending yourself, saving the world. I’m not going to say you didn’t kill him, you know as well as I do that you did. But it wasn’t murder. He was the murderer.”

He leaned against her chest. “And I’m the killer.”

“If you’re a killer,” she whispered, “Then, so am I.”

Neither of them said anything for a long time. Then, as the sun set, Harry said, “I do have an idea for another book.”

Hermione didn’t stop looking at the sun as it fell below the mountains. “What is it?”

“The rise of Voldermort. He’s tried to kill me so many times, maybe I should write a book about it instead of the side notes in Fall of the Dark Lord.” He looked up at her face. “What do you think?”

She looked at him. “It sounds like a best seller. What will you call it?” she smiled. “The Rise of the Dark Lord?”

“Well, it does have that ominous ring to it.” He laughed a little. “Who’d have thought that Voldermort, of all people, would be the reason for my success?”

“It does make sense.” She scooted in her seat a little. “Maybe you could make it a series. He gave you enough material.”

“A series?” Harry sat up, leaving the comfort of Hermione’s arm. “An autobiographical series?”

“Think about it. Every year, for seven years, and when you were a baby, he attacked you. Write it out a year at a time, revolving around your time at Hogwarts. Tell it as a story, not history.” They sat for hours, talking about the pros and cons of writing it in seven books. Before they even started reminiscing about their school days, Hermione yawned. “I’m beat,” she said. “Can we talk about this later?”

“I’m tired too.” They walked to their rooms, “’Night, Mione,” he said.

“Goodnight.”

The Weasley’s had a memorial for Ron a week after the battle. Professor Dumbledore let them use the Great Hall. Everyone in their year, except for most of the Slytherins, attended. Hermione was asked to speak. “Ron was one of my best friends,” she began. “This past week has been so hard for me. I never realized how much we all depended on him. He was one of the best people I ever met.

“Though he was only seventeen, Ron accomplished much more than many others of his age. When he was eleven years old, he helped save the world because of his love of chess. He was willing to do anything to help a friend in need, even if it involved swallowing vile tasting potions.” There were a few laughs. “Ron loved life. He knew to live it to its fullest, even if it sometimes meant breaking to rules. He didn’t leave the world untouched. I’m sure everyone in this room can remember at least one of his hilarious antics.” Nods from the audience. “Ron wouldn’t want us to cry too much over his passing. Of course, I know he’d love the attention of a few tears, but we need to celebrate his life. He was one of a kind.”

It was a short speech, but if she said anything else, Hermione was bound to burst into tears. And it didn’t look good for a speaker telling people not to mourn someone to cry, sob really, in front of them.

When Hermione woke up the sun was already out. She walked downstairs, looking for Harry. He was outside, looking at the mountains. “Five years today,” he said when she opened the sliding glass door to the porch.

She was standing behind him, looking at his mop of black hair. “I miss him so much,” she said quietly.

“Voldermort?”

Her lips moved, forming a half smile, “You know who.”

Harry turned around, “Ginny’s coming over today. She usually does.” He walked past her, back into the house. “C’mon, let me make you some breakfast.”

Hermione followed him, “Since when can you cook?”

“Alright, let my cook make us some breakfast,” he smiled.

She shook her head, “Harry Potter with a staff, who would have thought?”

He shoved her in the shoulder, laughing a little. “I’m rich, hero-man, I need a staff, how else would I remember to get dressed every morning?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “I’m not even going to touch that one.” 

A few hours later, Ginny apparated in. They spent their time together ignoring the date and catching up with each other. 

Ginny helped her brothers in their joke shop. She’d even developed a few of the products they were now selling. 

Neither Ginny nor Harry knew what Hermione’s real job was, and though it hurt to lie to her friends, she couldn’t tell them. “And how are things at the Ministry going?” Ginny asked.

“Same old, same old. When I took the job, I never realized how much paper work was involved.” She shook her head, “I’m on vacation, let’s not talk about work.”

Ginny stayed for two days. In that time, she and Harry spent a lot of time alone together. After she left, Hermione asked, “You love her, don’t you?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “How did you know?” He finally said.

“You’re my best friend, how could I not know?” She shrugged, “And, it’s a girl thing.”

“I think I’ve loved her for a while now. I just don’t know how to tell her,” he sat, slouching on the sofa. “Someday I’ll get the courage.”

“Harry, I’ve told you this so many times. Someday doesn’t always come.” She sat down and closed her eyes, remembering Ron’s final moments. “Ron told me he loved me right before he died.” She opened her eyes and looked at Harry. “If we hadn’t been waiting for someday, we would have been together, in love, before the battle.”

“You never told me.”

“I don’t know why. But don’t let it come down to that with Ginny. Tell her. Go now, and tell her.”

“What if she doesn’t want me?” He sounded desperate.

“At least you’ll know.” She stood up. “Please tell her.”

“And just leave you here?”

“I have other things I can do, Harry.” She walked to the stairs.

“Bye, Mione,” Harry said, and apparated away. Hermione smiled. Once her bag was packed she apparated into the alley next to her building.

She got inside and looked at the clock. It was a little after ten PM. There was a note from Alissa on the table in the kitchen. She said she was out of town until Friday. It was Wednesday. Hermione went into her room and opened the Informant. There were no messages. She put it back in her bag, lay down, and went to sleep.

“Miss Granger?” The man approached her as she was sitting outside at a café in Diagon Alley. He sat down without being invited. His robes were very professional looking. “My name is Richard Whitlaw. I’d like to offer you a job.” He told her that he worked in association with the Ministry of Magic, mostly monitoring the Muggle world. His people made sure that magic stayed a secret all over the world. 

If she took the offered position, she would be able to travel all over the globe protecting magic. Another of the organizations responsibilities was to make sure that no one like Voldermort came into power again. Upon hearing that, she agreed. Anything to stop another Voldermort.

There was a crash somewhere in the flat. It was three AM and Alissa wasn’t home. Hermione got out of bed and went to investigate. The front door was closed, but she could hear footsteps in Alissa’s room. Wand drawn, she walked in. Draco Malfoy was searching through Alissa’s things obviously looking for information. “She took her computer with her, Malfoy,” Hermione said, pointing her wand at the floor. “There’s no pertinent information in her paper files.”

Malfoy stood up and scowled. “And how would you know that, Granger?”

“Because I went through everything four days ago. I take it the fire was your work?” He nodded. “Nicely done, but everything wasn’t destroyed.”

“You sure are a fount of knowledge. And I am perfectly aware that everything wasn’t destroyed.” He walked to the door. When he got there they were standing face to face. He was about four inches taller than her.

She looked up and met his eyes. “Why should I let you through?”

“I eat girls like you for breakfast.” He pushed her aside, but she hit the door. “Move, Granger.”

“Stay out of my way, Malfoy. This is my mission. So crawl back to whatever gutter you came from, and tell your employer that you couldn’t complete this assignment.” She stepped back to let him through.

He smiled and didn’t move. “Didn’t you know,” his smirk got bigger, “We’re working for the same people.” He walked out of the flat before Hermione could respond. Hermione shook her head, trying to convince herself that he was lying. It couldn’t be the truth. Draco Malfoy would never work for the good guys. And if his words weren’t a sick joke, then Hermione was working for the bad guys.

She needed answers. She just didn’t know where to begin looking.


	4. Chapter 3: Dancing With the Enemy

Chapter 3

Hermione went back to work on Monday. The offices smelled of fresh paint and dry wall. Since only the paper records were destroyed none of the furniture was replaced. Her desk smelled like smoke but showed no outward signs of damage. After lunch one of the executives came to see her. “Miss Granger,” he said, “Come with me please.” She stood up and followed him. Mr. Andrews expected to be obeyed. He led her to a conference room. There was a long table with two seats at the ends and four on each side.

“Miss Granger, we’d like to offer you a promotion.” Hermione hid her smile and acted surprised. It was company policy to not inform people when they were up for promotion. Supervisors could observe employees who didn’t know to be on their best behavior; it usually insured that the people in higher positions in the company deserved to their jobs.

“If you choose to take the position,” he said, “You will be working from another of our London locations in our Research and Development Division.”

“Research and Development?” It was exactly what she’d been angling for.

“You show a strong aptitude for R and D. So, would you like the job?”

“I’m flattered, sir. I couldn’t say no.”

Mr. Andrews smiled, “Excellent,” he handed her a business card. “Report to this address at 9 A.M. tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She took the card, the address looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Mr. Andrews stood up and left her alone in the room. Hermione smiled and left. She gathered her few personal items from the desk and was out of the office by 5:01. In celebration Hermione picked up a cappuccino on her way to the tube station.

When she got back to the flat she wrote in the Informant:

I’ve received a promotion. I will be working near the device in Research and Development.

She closed the Informant and opened a book about the spy system in the first war against Voldermort. 

Alissa didn’t get home until about seven. “Do you have plans tonight?” she asked.

“Not really, why?” Hermione had planned to continue her book, in private, of course.

“I’m taking you out in celebration.”

“I hope you mean a nice quiet dinner and maybe a movie.”

Alissa smiled, “You need to learn to have a little fun, we’ll leave at nine. It’s a little bit of a ride.” Alissa left the room, leaving no space for arguments. Muggle Hermione wouldn’t have said no anyway, it just wasn’t like her.

By ten to nine Hermione was ready in a short, but modest, burgundy dress. Alissa wasn’t ready until after 9:15. They walked as briskly as their heels would carry them to the tube station. The club was thirty minutes away. At times like that, sitting in the tube, squished in between workaholics and alcoholics, Hermione wished she hadn’t taken her job. “We’re working for the same people.” She heard Malfoy say.

No one, not even Harry, knew what she did. Her employer made sure she knew that secrecy, even with the famous Harry Potter, was of the utmost importance. It made sense five years ago. Now it seemed like an attempt to isolate her from her old life. She couldn’t be working for the same people as Malfoy, he was bad, she was good, that simple. But he’d succeeded in planting a seed of doubt.

“Hermione! Come on, this is our stop.” Alissa was pulling on Hermione’s arm. “You were a million miles away.”

Hermione smiled, “I was just thinking about work.”

“No, no,” Alissa was shaking her head, “None of that tonight.” Five minutes from the station they got in line at the club. Alissa turned to Hermione, a guilty look on her face. “This was a setup.”

For a second, Hermione couldn’t speak. Then she realized that Alissa wasn’t talking about spies or work, “What?”

“You remember that guy I went out with a while ago?”

“The stalker? Drake Something-or-other?”

“Draco Malfoy, Drake’s just a nickname. Yeah, him.”

Hermione almost laughed, “You set me up with a stalker?” Or an evil dark wizard whose hated me for over ten years?

“Maybe I was exaggerating a bit when I said stalker.” They were let into the club. The music was so loud that Hermione almost couldn’t hear Alissa when she yelled, “He’s not bad really, just not right for me. He seems like your type.” Hermione almost laughed, but she suppressed it. There were tables off to the side of the dance floor. Malfoy was standing at one of them. “Just give him a chance, please?”

She really had no choice. “The minute he starts to act like a stalker, I’m leaving.” They walked to Malfoy’s table.

“Draco, this is Hermione Granger,” Alissa said, beaming, “Hermione, Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione held out her hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Draco.” It was difficult to say his first name.

Instead of shaking her hand, he kissed it, Alissa giggled. Hermione barely suppressed a shudder. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Oy! Alissa!”

“That’s my friend Tony,” said Alissa. “Have fun,” and she was gone.

“What are you thinking, Granger?” There was no malice in his voice.

Her lips curled in a tight smile, “I’m trying to figure out which god I’ve angered. It’s the only explanation I can come up for this situation.” She shook her head. “Were you tricked into this, or are you here on purpose?”

“You won’t believe me either way. But it actually was a trick. I won’t pretend that I want to be here, at least not with you,” he looked at his muggle watch, “How long do you think we have to pretend to be enjoying ourselves?”

“No more than an hour I should think.” She sat down at one of the stools. “How about you get us some drinks?” He looked like he would say no for a moment, but he turned to go to the bar. “Just a bottle of water for me.” She didn’t know if he heard her, or if he was listening.

Several minutes later he came back carrying two bottles of water. He put one down in front of her and sat on the stool on the other side of the table. They said nothing, both drinking their water. It turned into a very long staring contest. “Alissa’s coming this way,” Draco finally said.

Hermione brightened, “So, have you seen that new movie?” She shook her head, “I can’t remember the title. There’s a girl and she goes around,” Alissa tapped her on the shoulder. “Could you hold on a minute, Draco?” He nodded. She got up and walked a few steps away from the table. “What?”

“You two have been sitting and talking for the past twenty minutes! Go, dance, have some fun. Just don’t be so boring.” Alissa walked away before Hermione could say anything. She went back to the table.

“Care to dance?” she asked Malfoy. The look of shock was evident on his face. “It’s part of the Muggle mating ritual,” she explained. “Boy and girl exchange minimal speech, and then they do a public rendition of clothed sex, followed by the real thing in private. Luckily we only need to do step on and two.”

Draco blinked his eyes once, then again. It was like he was seeing Hermione for the first time. At least, it looked that way. Then he smirked, “Well, Granger. I never knew you had it in you.” He stood up and led her to the dance floor.

Just as they were about to dance, a slow song came on. Hermione let out an ironic laugh. Putting her head on his shoulder and swaying to the music, she said, “If the people at Hogwarts could see us now.” He, too, chuckled. As they swayed together on the floor, the usual observer would only see two people dancing together, they may have been complete strangers, or madly in love. It wasn’t readily apparent that they were neither strangers nor lovers, but enemies. After enough extremely tense had time passed, Hermione said, “Let’s go.”

Once they were outside Hermione was ready to part ways, but Malfoy asked, “Isn’t it usual on these Muggle mating rituals, was it, for the man to escort the woman home? We wouldn’t want to blow your cover.” Hermione nodded reluctantly. She followed him to his car. “It’s completely Muggle. I can’t even use magic to control it.”

“Poor baby.” Hermione sat in the seat and stared out at London as it flew by in a blur. A song played on the radio.

“I know how to hurt, I know how to heal. I know what to show, And what to conceal. I know when to talk, And I know when to touch, No one ever died from wanting to much.”

She didn’t listen intently until she heard:

“People like us, Know how to survive. There’s no point in living, If you can’t feel alive. We know when to kiss, And we know when to kill If we can’t have it all, Then nobody will.”

They arrived at her building. There was a light on in her flat. “Damn, Alissa’s home.” And she was looking out the window. Hermione unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over towards Malfoy. Her lips were next to his ear, but she said nothing.

However, he said, “See you around.” She got out of the car, trying desperately not to shake her head. Draco Malfoy would always be a prat. No doubt about it.

When she reached her door Alissa already had it opened. “So,” she asked, “How was it?”

“I’m really tired,” she said, “Can we talk about it some other time.” Before Alissa could object she walked to her room. Opening the Informant, she read:

An operative is already in that department. You will work as a team to finish this assignment.

Her employers were careful to never name names in the Informant. If the wrong wizard got a hold of it, and knew how to break through the security charms, the entire organization was at stake.

By the end of Ron’s memorial, only the Weasley’s, Harry, and Hermione were left. Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the end of a table sobbing. Bill was trying to comfort her, but to no avail. Percy had made an appearance, but there was still bad blood between he and his family. He’d left over an hour before. Tired of seeing all of the Weasleys with bags under their eyes she walked outside and sat down on a slab of cold stone overlooking the lake. She heard footsteps behind her. They were Harry’s.

“How can this be real?” She asked, tears glistening.

Harry sat down beside her. “This isn’t real,” he said. “If I keep saying that, maybe I’ll wake up.”

“It’s never been just us like this before. You knew Ron first, were friends with Ron first. Even if we were alone he was always near, just a shout or so away. Oh Merlin I miss him.” She finally let the tears fall. Harry hugged her close to him.

“Oh, ‘Mione, I miss him too.” It was the first time he ever called her by that name. She let him. If she didn’t have Ron, she needed someone to cling to, even a nickname was enough.

She stood up. Ron was gone, but Harry was here, alive, warm flesh. Pulling his hand she said, “Come with me…please.”

Hermione woke on the verge of tears. It was already 7:30, but she wasn’t worried about time. She forsook her run and got ready leisurely. Once she was ready in her light gray business suit she set out. By the time she got to her new office it was nearly 8:50. She finally knew why the address had seemed so familiar, it was two doors down from the Leaky Cauldron. No wonder the company knew about magic.

Once she was inside the secretary directed her to a lift. The lift took her three levels down. A supervisor greeted her when she arrived at the right place. “Miss Granger,” he said, “Welcome to sublevel 3. We work in groups of two here, it makes the place friendlier and more efficient. Let me introduce you to your partner and then I’ll explain what you’ll be doing.”

The cheerful man led her to a desk, another desk was across from it. They were touching. A blond man was sitting there, her partner. “We’re working for the same people.” Malfoy had said.

Why did he have to be right?


	5. Chapter 4: So It Begins

Chapter 4

“Have you already met?” Her cheerful supervisor asked.

Malfoy answered for her, “We just met last night.” He didn’t stand up. As he leaned back in his chair, Hermione tried to think of a time when she’d seen a more arrogant posture. She wanted to slap him, but Hermione-the-Muggle didn’t hate Draco-the-Muggle, she stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“Wonderful! Why don’t you take a seat, Miss Granger?” Hermione sat down. The supervisor explained that she and Malfoy would be testing some of the newest computer software. When he finally walked away Hermione glared at Malfoy.

“What? Didn’t believe me, did you?” He raised an eyebrow. She said nothing. “We’re partners now, Granger, don’t seem so angry about it.”

She leaned forward and snapped, “Why are you so happy about this?”

She didn’t get her answer. Just then a man walked up to her desk. “Hello,” he said offering a hand, “My name is Julian Vaughn. I just waned to welcome you to this cozy little basement.”

Hermione shook his hand wondering why everyone was so friendly, “Hermione Granger.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” she heard Malfoy choke. “Care to grab a coffee with me after work?”

“Sounds great.”

Julian smiled broadly, “Smashing,” he said and walked away.

“Smashing, just smashing,” Malfoy muttered. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“Jealous?” Hermione asked.

“Of you? Ha!”

“Of him, unless of course you swing that way, in which case I completely understand.” Malfoy choked on the water he was drinking.

“You really must learn how to swallow.”

They worked for a few hours trying to break through the security measures on the computer software. “How are you doing?” Malfoy asked around one.

“It’s a good system,” she said.

“Let’s grab lunch,” he stood up.

Lunch with a vampire sounded better, even if she were the meal. But she stood up and followed Malfoy. They said nothing as the lift took them to the lobby. They walked two doors down. “Are you daft?” she said as Malfoy was about to step into the Leaky Cauldron. “If wizards we know see us together they’ll suspect something, especially given your…alleged alliances.”

“I was never convicted, and no one will see us.” He led her inside. They sat in a shady booth. Malfoy took his wand out and muttered an incantation. Hermione looked shocked, “What?”

“That’s a very difficult and subtle charm. I didn’t know you had the skill or power to use it.” Grudging respect showed in her eyes.

“My…alleged associates demanded power and the skill to use it. My skill with charms, among other things, is simply the product of their demands.” He shrugged.

“That’s a lot to tell me, especially since I didn’t ask a question.” She crossed her arms, “How much will it cost me, and when do you expect me to pay?”

“The price?” She nodded. He seemed to think for a moment. “When it comes to our…association…trust me.” He said, “I, of course, shall do the same for you. It should make this project run smoothly.”

“I have never, in the twelve years I have known you, felt that there was any possibility for trust between us. Why should I start now?”

He smirked, “Because now we’re colleagues. This is a dangerous job. Do you even know what happened to the last person they sent in?” Hermione shook her head. “He disappeared; presumed dead. Do you want to be next?”

“I won’t dignify that with an answer.”

“Then do you trust me enough to work with me? No matter what my personal feelings are, I’ll try to not get you killed.”

“Comforting, really.” She took a deep breath, let it out, “You turn on me, I turn on you, got it? And don’t think I’m too good to do it.”

He grinned, “Keep talking like that and we may be more than just business partners.” Hermione stood up, disgusted. “Listen, Granger, I’m sorry, sit down. We still have a few minutes before we have to be back.”

“Fine, but only because this is much more important than either of us.” She sat down. “We need to find out where they keep their files on the system, and the prototype. My guess is that they have a top security server somewhere in the building. Not sublevel 3. They own the whole building, yes?”

“Right. The third and fourth floor are offices. There is a cafeteria on the second. You’ve seen the lobby, the only other thing on that floor is the toilets. Sublevel Two and Three are the main research and development areas. Sublevel One is off limits to anyone without clearance.”

“You could have just said that our information is probably one Sublevel One.”

He smirked, “I could have, but on those muggle spy shows they tell every last detail, it usually helps them escape.”

She rolled her eyes, “That’s for plot development so the people watching know where things are. You watch the telly?”

“It passes the time. Have you seen what they call magic?”

Hermione was uncomfortable with the sudden friendly turn in the conversation. “We should go back, they’ll missing us soon.”

When they arrived back there were stacks of paper on there desks. One of the papers was labeled diagnostics. She divided the stack in half. Each of the smaller piles was a foot and a half thick.

“Maybe we’ll finish before next year,” said Malfoy.

Hermione smirked, “Too much for you, Malfoy?”

“It was a joke, Granger, you do know what that is?”

The lapsed into silence.

Later Julian came looking for her. “Are you ready?”

She looked at Malfoy, “By all means, go,” he said.

“Let me pack up, I’ll meet you at the lift.” He smiled, nodded, and left.

“Get all the information you can.”

“I know, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She left.

Julian was waiting for her. “I know this great little café. It’s just a short walk from here.”

“Wonderful.” They left the building and walked six blocks down the street. They did not pas the Leaky Cauldron. A castle was carved into the door, she looked at the sign, “The Shakespeare Café?”

“You’ve never been here?” He looked stunned. “My mum was absolutely, and I mean absobloodylutely, obsessed with good ole Bill.”

They walked in and were seated. Things on the menu included Bard’s beignets, Juliet Juice (Hermione thought that sounded extremely disgusting), Romeo Rolls, and the like. “Clever menu,” she said.

Julian laughed. The waitress came to their table, and they ordered. “So, what made you want to work at SecureCo?” He asked.

She didn’t even have to think of her cover. “My parents are dentists. I’ve always thought it was awfully boring work. When I was…12, I think, I became addicted to those spy programs. You know the like?” He nodded. “Well, I wanted to make something no one could get through.” She smiled, Hermione-the-muggle was having fun, “What about you?”

“My father owns the company. It wasn’t exactly a choice,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Wicked,” Hermione-the-witch was reformulating her plan for handling Julian. His usefulness had just multiplied tenfold. “If it weren’t for you father, what would you do?”

He looked surprised. “No one has ever asked me that before. I’ve never really thought about it.” He thought for several moments. Finally, he said, “I don’t know. I don’t think you could understand it. I’m my parents only child, there never was another choice.”

Just like Malfoy, the thought came unbidden from the depths of her mind. “Actually,” she said, “I think I do. Understand, I mean.” He smiled broadly again. They talked for awhile longer, but Hermione got little information about SecureCo.

He walked her to the Underground. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”

“I’m sure.” He smiled, shrugged, and left. After descending into the Underground, Hermione headed for the toilets. Once inside she apparated to her parents house. She opened their front door and walked inside, “Mum, Da, I’m here.” She could hear her parents working in the kitchen. Hermione followed her nose. “Smells delicious.”

“It’s just fish,” said Mrs. Granger. “And it’s almost done. Set the table.” Hermione got her wand out. Domestic spells were the only kind she had never mastered. All of the plates, silverware, cups, even the salt shakers were upside down.

Her father looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll fix it,” she said.

“The muggle way?” He asked

“Oh fine, don’t’ let me have my fun.” She fixed the settings and they all sat down.

“So how’s work?” Asked her mother.

This was the part Hermione hated most about her visits to her parents. Every time she came, one of her parents would invariably ask her about her work, and Hermione was forced to lie. She knew it was for their protection, but it didn’t make it any less hard. “Great, I just got a promotion.”

“That’s wonderful, Hermione! We’re so proud of you for all of your hard work.” Her parents were both smiling. Hermione did too, but she felt rotten inside. “What will you be doing?”

“Paper work, lot’s of paperwork.” She rolled her eyes, “The Ministry likes to have four copies of everything. I’m going to be testing products to make sure they are fit for sale.”

“That sounds exciting.” Hermione shrugged. She stayed for a few hours, eating and watching Reality Television.

“I don’t believe they have the gall to put this on the air,” said her father. “Look at those two, do they even know the cameras are there?” Hermione smiled, her father loved, and loved to hate Reality Shows. Especially Big Brother, which he watched religiously.

“I need to go now,” Hermione stood up.

“Must you?” Asked her mother.

“Yeah, I still have some paperwork to finish before going in tomorrow.” Her mother and father hugged her. “I’ll be back in two weeks. Okay?” They nodded she kissed each of them and apparated to the alley behind her building.

She walked into her flat, Alissa wasn’t home, but that was normal. Hermione went into her room and fell asleep.

Ron was sitting next to her. It wasn’t a memory. “Is this real?” she asked. Ron hugged her close to him saying nothing. “Are you really here, Ron?”

It was as if by saying his name, she made him speak. “Can’t you feel me?” he asked. “Isn’t that enough?”

Staying quiet for a moment, she looked around the room. It wasn’t a room, exactly, just a place. The walls, if one could call them that, were inky black, and they seemed to be undulating. It wasn’t dark, though. She and Ron were glowing. “If your just a figment of my imagination, go away. If I can’t really have you, I don’t want to suffer the memories.”

“Don’t you already?” He morphed into Harry. “I’m still here for you, I’ll always be here for you.” He kissed her on the lips. It was nice, but not passionate.

“Stop that, Harry,” she said. “You’re not here either. Why are you haunting me?”

The body beside her stood up. Now it was herself. “Don’t you know?” the other Hermione asked. “You’ve failed one, and will fail the other. You can’t even do a simple table setting spell. You’re weak. You’re powerless. You’re nothing.”

“Go away!” The real Hermione screamed.

Fake Hermione didn’t even flinch, “I can’t go away, I’m in you. You’re just a worthless little mudblood. Do you think you can escape me?” But she too faded. Hermione drew her knees to her chin and hid her face. When she finally looked up, a single tear dropped from her eyes. She saw something, someone, she never expected to see in her dreams. Malfoy was standing leagues away through the undulating dark. He was staring at her.

And staring.

Just staring.

She stared too. There was nothing else she could do.


	6. Chapter 5: High Standards

Chapter 5

Malfoy was staring at her.

“What?” she asked, finally looking up from her computer. His eyes were about to burn holes through her skull.

“Nothing,” he shifted his gaze, looking behind her, he said, “Your new bloke is coming this way.”

“Wonderful,” she muttered.

“Not up to your high standards?”

“He’s the bosses only son; it doesn’t matter how little character he has.” Malfoy actually laughed.

“I hope I’m not the butt of the joke,” said Julian. Malfoy coughed to cover his new fit of laughter.

Hermione smiled, “Of course not.”

Julian sat on the edge of Hermione’s desk, some of Malfoy’s papers scattered and fell to the floor. He picked up a pen and pretended to stab Julian several times. Julian was oblivious. “So,” he said to Hermione, “There’s a new film starting up on Friday. Want to go with me?”

Malfoy kept up his pantomime, be he silently encouraged her. “Yeah, sure,” said didn’t sound enthused.

“Great,” he started to walk away, but he turned back. “Are you aware of company lunch policy?”

“No, why?”

“The company asks that employees eat in the cafeteria on the second floor. The food is good, and inexpensive.” He looked at Malfoy, “Keep it in mind.”

As Julian walked away, Malfoy said, “That’s bull shit, that’s a heaping, steaming, load of bull shit.” He looked at the time. “Let’s eat, we need to talk.”

They walked quickly and in near silence to the second floor cafeteria. After standing in line for nearly ten minutes, they sat down in a corner. The food on their trays was identical. The closest employee to them was two tables away. “This place might be bugged,” Hermione said in a harsh whispered, “Muggle listening devices, you know?” Draco nodded. “Though it’s so loud in here I doubt they could hear us.”

“Then why are you whispering?”

She met his eyes, “I could be wrong. You’re the one that wanted to talk, so talk.”

He looked over her shoulder, just a glance, but it was enough to tell her that someone was looking at them a little too intently. “The truth is,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “I’m just going to come out with this,” now muggle-Malfoy was talking, “Want to grab a something to drink after we leave?”

Muggle-Hermione smiled, “Yeah, sounds great.” They ate in silence and went back to their desks. 

Once they finished all they could do that day, Malfoy and Hermione left sublevel three in the only way they traveled together, silently. “This is a muggle place,” Hermione said as they walked inside a pub.

Malfoy smiled, “London has many secrets, this place is one of them.” He led her to a closet, there were stairs under a trap door. They walked down for over a minute; the stairs led to a dark hallway, it seemed to go on forever in either direction. The door they entered said ‘The Witches Wart.’ A few wizards sat at the tables, most of them looked like convicts. The corner they sat in was the darkest place in the establishment.

“Dark wizard haunt?”

Malfoy shrugged, “Used to be.”

“What a surprise,” several shrunken heads hung from the ceiling and there were jars of substances she didn’t want to identify on various counters and tables.

“So, what did you find out on your little outing with Vaughn?” He sneered.

Hermione ignored his expression, “He’s the bosses only son, you know the type,” He nodded, “He didn’t say much else, except that his mother loves Shakespeare. That doesn’t help much.”

“Where does he work? What level?”

“Unfortunately, it would have been imprudent to ask.” She crossed her arms, “Any ideas on how to get the system specs?”

“I’ll be staying at work late tomorrow, I want to know when every one leaves, and I need a way into sublevel two.”

“We,” she said, “We need a way into sublevel two.”

He nodded, “I meant we.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I’ll hack into the security system with a coworkers name, it should be easy.” Hermione said nothing. “Is it not morally righteous enough for you? Or do you wish you had thought of it first?”

She shrugged, “It’s a sound plan.” The stench was starting to get to her. “Are we finished?”

He held up a hand to stop her from standing up, “Just one last thing.”

“What?”

“We need to establish a protocol for passing information. Talking after or during work will become obvious very soon.”

She raised an eyebrow, “What do you suggest, notes in a trash can?”

“Do you want to go dumpster diving? I know I’m not a fan of it. That won’t work, Granger.”

“I was being sarcastic, but do you have a better idea? It’s a bad plan, but it’s the only plan.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Does it hurt?” He sneered at her. She leaned back in her chair, and said, “We’ll need to talk in person then.” She didn’t sound happy about it.

“Nice deduction,” he said, “Do you want a cookie?”

“How,” Hermione asked, ignoring him.

“Must I spell it out for you, Granger? We’ll meet in private, using a believable cover story, and discuss business. If we don’t kill each other the plan will work,” he said.

Hermione resisted to urge to roll her eyes, “I never thought I’d work closely with someone who I’m at risk of murdering every waking hour.”

Draco didn’t respond for a moment, then he just said, “Yeah.”

“What, no witty comeback?” Triumph shown in her eyes.

“It’s almost 7 o’clock, I just want to go home. Let’s finish here so we can go recharge for tomorrows battle of wits. We need to talk alone, if no one knows, or thinks they know, why we’re always together, rumors will start.”

She raised an eyebrow, “And you care about muggle rumors?”

He shook his head, “Of course, not. I do, however care about our muggle cover. They mustn’t think we’re any different.” They lapsed into silence. Eventually he said, “I do have a plan, and it will work, but it won’t work without your complete support.”

“And what, pray tell, is your plan?”

He started, then paused, as if he didn’t know how to phrase his proposal. “We will appear to be dating. It will give us enough reason to be alone together often enough. No one should suspect.”

“Alright,” said Hermione. Malfoy’s eyes widened. “What?” she asked, “Didn’t expect me to agree?” He nodded. “It’ll work, and I want to get back to my flat. If that’s all we needed to get done, I’m leaving.” She stood up.

Malfoy called after her as she walked away, “Bye, sweetie.” She rolled her eyes and kept on her course.

The ride home seemed shorter than it was on most days. When she opened the door to her flat Alissa said, “Where have you been? I was starting to worry.”

Hermione smiled, “No you weren’t. And you know I was just working.”

Alissa shook her head, “I have it on good authority that you left the office almost two hours ago with Draco Malfoy. Work stays in the office, so what were you two doing together?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “We went out, had a drink, nonalcoholic, and discussed a project we’re doing. It was work. I promise.”

“I think he fancies you.”

“Last week you though Will the Janitor fancied me. Can you tell me who it will be next week? I’d like to keep a list of all the hearts I’m breaking.”

Alissa laughed, “Speaking of broken hearts, you never did get around to telling me about your date with Julian Vaughn.”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” Hermione walked towards her room.

Alissa cut in front of her, “I don’t think so, sit down, I want details.”

Hermione threw her hands up as she sat at the kitchen table, “We went to a café, had coffee, and discussed the meaning of life. He’s nice enough, but a little shallow if you ask me.”

“You know what your problem is? You’re too picky! Julian Vaughn, too shallow! He’s Julian Vaughn.”

“I will not let my standards waver because he’s the bosses son, he doesn’t deserve special treatment.” She paused, “But, because he’s so pretty, we’re going out again on Friday.” Alissa’s jaw dropped and Hermione walked into her room.

Hours later, just as she was about to fall asleep, Hermione heard Alissa say, “You’re too picky.” But she was asleep before she could think about it.

“The key is to fit in,” her handler told her as they sat on a bench in the underground station. “Muggles are different from us, for our purposes they mustn’t ever detect those differences.”

“I’m a muggle born, I can act like a muggle.”

Her handler looked at her, “But you aren’t a muggle. How many days a week do you ride on the underground?”

“Never, of course.”

“You see my point?”

Hermione nodded. “I need to learn how to fit in.”

“Yes, you do. We’ll skip the money lessons, you do know that. Now, give me your wand.”

“What?” She hadn’t ever given up her wand, willingly.

“For the next week you will be a muggle. No magic, at all. Give me your wand, Miss Granger.”

Her wand was her power, her confidence, and the seat of her magic. Giving up her wand was giving her being over to someone else.

“Miss Granger.”

She pulled it out of her handbag, “Here.”

“You’ll be working here for the next week,” he handed her a business card and pointed out an address. “You’ll be living here.” He pointed to another. “When your time is up, report to the address on the back of the card. We will be grading you, so, watch your back. Good luck.”

He walked away. Hermione just sat there, feeling helpless.


End file.
